ery angry."

"I am not angry; what I feel is justified."

"Because I call my maid and myself 'we'!"

He stopped short, and held out his hand.

"Will you say that it is only the maid?"

Then she felt sure that she should be obliged to scream outright, even
while she was summoning all her self-control to the rescue.

They were come to an angle where two streets met steeply and started
thence on a joint pitch into the centre of the town. She ran her eyes
quickly up and down each vista of cobblestones, and, seeing no one that
she knew either near or far, put her hand into his.

"Upon my word and honor," she declared, with all the gravity which the
occasion seemed to demand, "I swear that when I leave Constance my maid
will be my only--"

"_Assez, assez!_" he interrupted, hastily dropping her hand, "it is not
need that you swear that. I can see your truth, and I have just think
that it may very well come about that I shall chance to be in Constance
and wish to take the train as you. It would then be most misfortunate if
you have swear alone with your maid. It is better that you swear
nothing."

This kaleidoscopic turn to the conversation quite took Rosina's breath
away, and she remained mute.

"What hotel in Constance do you stop at?" he asked presently.

"The Insel House, of course."

He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a note-book.

"Perhaps I will want to remember," he said, as he wrote. Then he put up
the book and smiled into her eyes; he had a beautiful smile, warm and
winning. "I find that we are very _sympathique_," he went on, "that is
why I may perhaps come to see you again. People who can enjoy together
are not many."

"Have you enjoyed this morning? I thought you had not at all."

"But, yes," he protested gravely, "I enjoy it very much. How could you
think otherwise?"

She felt silence to be safest, and made no reply. He too was silent for
a little, and then spoke suddenly.

"Oh, because of that Englishman! But that is all over now. We will never
speak of him again. Only it is most fortunate that I am not of a jealous
temperament, or I might very well have really offended me that you talk
so much about him."

"It is fortunate," she agreed.

"Yes," he answered, "for me it was very good."

They had come to the crossing of the great square, and the sunlight was
dazzling and dancing upon the white stones of the bridge and the molten
gold of the Vierwaldstattersee. The Promenade was d